She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. What his head conceived his hand executed. . And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Sheppard, bitterly. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved.
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